Meera & I

I love Meera. She is my best friend. I can't lose her. Not even for my sake. Ever.

Meera was not the regular “enthusiastic” bride. It was her big day. She was on her way to the wedding. The banquet was just two leaps away but her mind was still muddled up. She knew somehow that this was not the right moment for her. That it’s never going to go right this way. But Meera was bound. She was helpless but desperate to break free.

Meera and I were the best of the buddies since her childhood. I knew everything about her. I knew her deepest secrets, something that she wouldn’t even dare to share with another soul. I was proud that she chose me to be her friend. She was my favourite girl too. The never failing bond of love, trust and friendship between us was ever growing strong. I was the protective one between us two. I was her inspiration, a shoulder for her to cry on when the big bad mean world outside did her wrong.

The saddest fact was that her own biological mother was a “Resident Evil” of that world, too. She bullied Meera like none. Meera lived her life on her mother’s whims. It’s embarrassing for one to not feel so good about one’s own birth mom. It’s shameful. World would consider such disgusts totally inhuman and speak ill of them. The world would curse them for shamming their own creators. There will always be biased favouritisms. This was a rule, followed invariably across the globe. I think the truth is always undisputed, and unquestionably disheartening beyond doubt, in this case.

Meera had a disturbed childhood. She grew up on complexes. She was so much damaged that she was not even confident enough to speak her name, let alone her mind. There were times when she did not want to wear a dress or attend a party but was threatened to do so. At other times, her mom just scorned her off for not being born out of love. It seemed, she blamed Meera for everything. She cursed her that her life too would be devoid of real love. That she would only feel one sided love and nothing more. I was sure that she hated her beyond hatred. Meera did not even exist for her mother. Her world was completely isolated. That’s why I befriended Meera. I was seeing that this indifference was killing her. She would have, one day, succumbed to this damage. I had no choice but to protect her. To make her feel good. To make her relive her life, I stepped in.

Meera was in great despair. She wanted to do many great things in life. She wanted to help people, make people happy, write, inspire and be happy herself. But the constant nagging and despise would someday have caused Meera’s demise. So I decided to become her protective shield. I stood there helping her rise when she was feeling low. I somehow grew very much possessive of her. I wanted to protect her from everything evil. So I decided never to leave her alone. When Meera’s evil mother fixed her marriage I was sad. Actually to tell you the truth, more than sad, I was scared. The fear of separation from her was slowly creeping into my soul. There was actually no meaning to my existence without her presence. Her going away and finding some safe haven would mean my death. I did not want that for myself. Meera on the other hand even though was sad to leave me and go away but could not confront her mother, lest argue with her. So she gave in. Her mother on the other hand thought that if she could send her daughter away, she would automatically forget me and eventually get rid of me. It’s actually a pity that people sometimes are so ignorant. Most people believe that they have full control over “Future”. As if future is a genie stuck in a lamp and that they own this lamp. But they had the least idea, that destiny is the master player… the game changer.

When Meera reached the venue, the guests were all seated. Meera, in her wedding dress, looked like a fresh lily ready to bloom. Everything looked peaceful and serene.

Then suddenly Meera was heard screaming. She was running across the garden and people tried grabbing her wrists. They tried to put a needle into her again.

“Looks like the drug has stopped working. She is again getting her schizophrenic fits. The attacks are getting out of control. We need a doctor. Let’s call off the wedding.” People talked amongst themselves.

The wedding was called off. Everyone said that this was a bad omen.

I was so relieved that Meera was back to who she was. To her normal self. They call her mad. That she’s suffering from mental illness. That she has a split personality. They call me her split personality. That I am just another woman in her head. I don’t quite believe that. I am her best friend, her protector and her guide and we are always meant to be together, no matter what. I have always protected her. She was so depressed, she could not even help herself. She could not stand for herself. She could not fight her mean mother or the world outside. There was a time, when she tried to kill herself. I saved her. The horrendous treatment meted out to her by her mother was heart wrenching for me. I hated her for that.

That day, when Meera was made the bride, I thought my end was near. If she would have got married and found love, my existence would have become void. She would then have never wanted my support. I would not have mattered to her, after that. But when she again got her fits of fear, which guests thought schizophrenia, by god, I swear, I was so happy. As if I was given a second chance. I was reborn. I exactly knew what I had to do next.

I shall never give up on her. Ever.